


Cobalt Glass

by Sailorhathor



Category: Nirvana (Band)
Genre: Gen, Yuletide, Yuletide 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28144794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sailorhathor/pseuds/Sailorhathor
Summary: Make it meaningful.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 10
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Cobalt Glass

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RocknRoll1968](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RocknRoll1968/gifts).



As they passed under a large highway light on the way to Los Angeles, some of the light filtered through a van window and highlighted Kurt's eyes. A moment, and the light passed on, and his eyes were gone.

"You're still up too, huh?" Dave said quietly. The others were asleep, except for the driver (luckily!), and he didn't want to wake them. It was a little weird to talk to people in the dark. You knew they were there because of their voice coming at you, but you couldn't see them; it could be disorienting.

"Too excited," Kurt said back, voice gravelly. "I've always wanted to play this club."

Someone turned over and kicked Dave in the side, but not hard. The van was packed with people. He grunted, ignored it otherwise. The van smelled worse than ever, like something had died in it. If he didn't volunteer to clean it up a bit, it would never get clean. Maybe when they got to San Francisco. Or someone's girlfriend would join them for a weekend and freak out over the conditions that men could learn to live with and douse their mobile touring home in bleach. Cleaning supplies from the dollar store were cheap.

He remembered their trip to Dollar Tree for snacks when Kurt kept screaming, "Why don't any of these things have prices? I must know how much this costs!" and grinned to himself.

When he was a kid, Dave's mom had a beautiful blue bowl in her china cabinet that always drew his eye while he sat at the kitchen table. Translucent, it had a label on the bottom that said COBALT GLASS. Most beautiful shade of blue he'd ever seen. Kurt's eyes were the same color. Every time he saw them, even in a fleeting glance of passing light, Dave was reminded of that bowl.

"Thanks again, by the way," Kurt said after a short minute of silence. Dave's heart nearly came up in his throat, he had been so lost in thought - the voice scared him out of his wits. The other man had no idea, though, as the van was pitch black again, and Dave's arm only brushed the side of the wall in reaction to how bad he'd been startled. "I love having a K Records tattoo. And it was so easy."

"Glad to do it."

The blond seemed to be in the mood to talk. "You're a pretty good artist. It looks really good."

"It's just a shield with a K in it," laughed Dave. "Anybody can draw that."

"Well, I think it looks badass. Very artistic." Kurt paused again, probably thinking. Sometimes he thought about things too much. Everybody remarked on that after knowing him for only a short time. "Of course, my favorite thing was how cheap it was." He chuckled.

"Can't beat free."

"Hey, when we get to L.A., would you teach me how to do that? How to move the needle without it hurting so much? I want to give you a tattoo back."

"Sure." Dave was one of those people who would eventually be covered in tattoos. He had so many plans and so many inches of skin to use as a canvas. Why the hell not? "You can give me... um..."

"How about a naked chick riding a dragon on your back?"

The idea of this was so ludicrous, using a sewing needle to draw something so huge, detailed, and un-Dave, that it poked Dave's funny bone, and he snorted. "Or a battleship across my chest."

Kurt could appreciate the humor of his own joke, and both men began to giggle, trying to keep the sound down, but partially failing.

The person from before turned, kicking Dave once more. He sucked in a breath. "The train's coming, get off the tracks," Krist's voice said, floating up out of the dark. Sometimes he talked in his sleep.

Dave and Kurt both covered their mouths and giggled into their hands; at times, they could get Krist to say some hilarious shit by just asking him random questions when he started to talk. Shelli had some screamingly funny videos of him rambling on and on in his sleep.

"You guys," someone whined. A crew guy Dave only knew as Dorkwad. "We're trying to sleep here."

"Sorry." Waiting a few seconds, Dave threw in, "I'll think about what tattoo I want while I try to get to sleep." It was a hint to Kurt that he should probably do the same thing.

"Okay." Now Kurt fell silent.

The only sound became the road moving under the wheels of the van.

Then, "Your shadow looks like Abraham Lincoln." Krist again.

Dave and Kurt collapsed into giggles. Even Dorkwad let out a snort of amusement. 

Next time he went home to Virginia, Dave would check to see if the cobalt glass bowl was still there. He knew there wasn't any reason for it to have gone anywhere, but over time, there were things you stopped seeing out of familiarity, and then one day, you suddenly wondered why you didn't remember seeing them for a while. And you had to check and make sure they were still there.

****

"I've decided what I want." Presenting his right arm, Dave pointed to a spot under his wrist, toward the middle of his forearm, on the outside. "Something small and simple, but you can surprise me."

The show didn't start for five hours. This was always the boring time when musicians got into the most trouble, feeling wired and full of mischief. "I can surprise you?" Kurt narrowed his eyes. "Are you crazy?"

Shrugging, Dave began to wrap a piece of thread around the thin sewing needle. "I kind of don't care, as long as it's nothing too stupid. Make it meaningful."

"Hmmmm... " Eyes gleaming, Kurt rubbed his hands together like a cartoonish mad scientist.

Dave broke out in one of his million dollar smiles. It always did his heart good to see Kurt when he was having genuine fun.

There were times when the process really hurt, but by following Dave's advice, Kurt made it through drawing his homegrown tattoo without bringing up much blood. "There. Done."

Dave looked. It was a tiny, stylized but chunky, letter R. "R?"

"Yeah." Carefully, Kurt placed the needle back in the plastic baggie in which Dave kept his 'tattoo kit.'

"What does it stand for?"

Kurt stopped and gave the other man a meaningful look with his cobalt glass eyes. He grasped Dave's hand. "Whatever you need it to."

This was the thing he thought Kurt did best. Expressing the poetry in his soul. "Oh, Kurt... That's really cool. Thank you." Dave gave him a hug around the neck. "You made it mean something. It's exactly what I wanted."

The lanky drummer had no idea at the time how many words that started with R a man could go through in a lifetime, especially with the life he would lead and the things he would experience. Over the years, he never forgot the tattoo given to him by a mentor and friend, who lent him his credibility as he went out into the music business on his own. There were days of Rebellion and Restlessness, of Resilience and Respect, and the eventual Reward, Reputation, and Results. There came days of Regret, but Dave's Resolve took him through it.

The artistic desire brought more tattoos, including feathers on both arms to give him wings to fly. Dave asked the artist to incorporate his tiny stylized R into the quills so he would still have it, but only those in the know would be able to find it again. Each time he was reminded of the things Kurt gave him, he couldn't help but rub the little R and experience a Remembrance of the most beautiful shade of blue he'd ever seen.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: This story would take place about 1990 or '91. I recently realized that Dollar Tree didn't become Dollar Tree until 1993. Whoops. X-D


End file.
